The Master Plan To Get River And Rory To Have A Lasting Friendship
by The Eclectic Bookworm
Summary: "I'm not seeing it." "Of course you don't. Rory's your husband and River's your daughter. You want to believe that everything's all right and nothing needs fixing. In actuality, River and Rory would need nothing short of a Christmas miracle to have a father-daughter relationship together." The Doctor takes it upon himself to fix River and Rory's slightly strained relationship.


**So during Halloween last year, I completely forgot to write a Halloween oneshot, and it was very upsetting for me on November 1st when I realized that I had missed my window for my favorite holiday. I decided to be more thorough when it came time for my second favorite, and a conversation with someone about River's relationship with Rory made this fanfiction come about.**

* * *

><p>The idea of buying River a cool present and making her give him that smile that he coveted above all things (not her normal smile, mind, but the sort of smile that she smiled when she couldn't stop herself from smiling) had seemed like a much better idea before the Doctor had entered the large department store. He stared around desperately, absolutely bewildered on what he was going to get his wife.<p>

"Losing your nerve?" Amy teased lightly, gently nudging the Doctor's shoulder as she pushed the shopping cart hesitantly down one of the aisles. "Try and find something sweet but sexy; I bet River would like that. I'm going to go get Rory a surprise Christmas gift—which I'm not telling you, seeing as you always tell him—"

"I do _not!_" the Doctor objected stubbornly, even though he knew Amy was right. "I'm brilliant at keeping secrets."

"Riiight. Come on, Doctor, let's see what we can find."

The Doctor sighed and followed Amy and the shopping cart reluctantly, glancing around the department store as if he was expecting a sneak alien attack. _Certainly it would make this outing more interesting_, he thought to himself.

"Oooh, look!" Amy squealed, holding up a frilly pink apron that said _Kiss the Cook _on it in red cursive lettering. "Oh my god, this is so _cute! _I can't wear it, of course, but River makes a mean meringue. She'd _love _this!"

"She hates pink," the Doctor pointed out. "And frills."

"I love the way pink looks on her, so she's going to have to wear it," said Amy stubbornly. "Into the shopping cart it goes." She carefully placed the apron in the shopping cart before continuing to push down the aisle—

Abruptly, the Doctor caught sight of something, and deftly steered the cart into the Sportswear section. Amy uttered an indignant yelp as the Doctor grabbed her arm and pulled them both behind the cover of a shoe display. The Doctor whispered a hasty apology, and Amy snapped, "What was that for?"

"River and Rory," the Doctor whispered.

"Yeah, I _know, _we're shopping for them—"

"No, _look,_" the Doctor hissed, pointing surreptitiously (or, to be more precise, an attempt at surreptitious that failed miserably) at River and Rory as the pair passed. The former was steering her shopping cart and looking a bit out of her depth; the latter was steering his and talking in a sort of stilted fashion about something that had happened at his job. "Why are they like that?"

"What d'you mean?" Amy asked.

"All—all stiff and awkward. I've never seen them like that before."

Amy frowned, peering at them both. "Don't be stupid, Doctor, they're always like that. It's the way they work."

"And that's supposed to _reassure _me?" the Doctor demanded. "They're going Christmas shopping too. I guess they met up by accident; they've got two carts. Rory's got some of that special chocolate—"

"Ew. I bet it's for me. Is it the weird Christmas chocolate or the good chocolate?"

"Quiet. Rory's got chocolate, and River has wrapping paper and presents, and they don't look happy. They look awkward. They're not _supposed _to be awkward. Why are they awkward?"

"I'm not seeing it."

"Of course you don't. Rory's your husband and River's your daughter. You want to believe that everything's all right and nothing needs fixing. In actuality, River and Rory would need nothing short of a Christmas miracle to have a father-daughter relationship together."

"You're starting to sound like one of those rubbish Christmas specials I always watch with Rory on telly," Amy informed him. "Doctor, what are you trying to say?" The Doctor was grinning broadly by now. "_Oh _no," said Amy with a groan, correctly interpreting his smile. "You've got one of your stupid plans, haven't you?"

"Pond," said the Doctor, "we're going to pull off a Christmas miracle."

"No," said Amy. "Not until we're done shopping." She glanced around to check that River and Rory had left before steering the cart out of Sportswear. "So what should I get Rory?"

The Doctor groaned, loudly and dramatically, and leaned heavily on Amy as he complained, "Are we going to work on our Christmas miracle, or are we—"

"_Your. _Your Christmas miracle. Not mine. I'm not helping you on your idiot plan, Doctor, because _nothing _is wrong!"

"Really?" said the Doctor, raising a barely-there eyebrow at his mother-in-law. Amy nodded, seeming certain, and then they heard a nervous voice coming from the cooking section.

"Um, River, what do you think we should get Amy?"

"Oh, I don't know," River responded with the same sort of discomfort. "Maybe makeup? She was saying something about wanting some lip liner. We could get her makeup."

"Right. Hey, you know, I think I saw the Doctor, maybe we should—"

"Yeah," said River with visible relief in her voice. "Let's go see if Amy's with him."

"Come on!" the Doctor hissed, linking arms with Amy and pushing the shopping cart with her at top speed. He didn't want to risk running into River and Rory; maybe a Christmas outing without him and Amy could serve as father-daughter bonding time. He was absolutely certain that they were a good distance away from River and Rory when Amy jerked away from him, stumbling backward into a rack of clothing. He only had about two seconds to wonder why she'd done that before the shopping cart crashed into a mannequin. Said mannequin fell into his cart.

"Oops," said the Doctor.

It took him about forty-five minutes to get the mannequin out of the cart and onto the display, including the twenty-five he had to spend looking for its arm. Amy helped look until she lost patience (both with the mannequin's arm and the Doctor) and decided to go shop for gifts by herself. By the time the Doctor had finally put the mannequin back on its small platform (even though it was now missing an arm), Amy had already bought all of her presents.

"So what are you getting for River?" she teased.

The Doctor groaned. "I've not even found anything for _Rory _yet. Give me a break. I'm getting River something special. I need time."

Amy nodded. "Hold this," she added, shoving an enormous shopping bag into the Doctor's arms. A neatly wrapped present hit him in the nose as the Doctor attempted to adjust the bag. "I'm going to go get some eggnog. There's a booth in the mall that's selling some. I'll be back in a mo!"

"Course you will," the Doctor grumbled, watching her walk away and carefully setting the bag down, sitting next to it himself.

"Sweetie?" came a bemused voice, and the Doctor had to smile a little bit as River Song walked up to him with the mannequin's plastic arm. "I _thought _it would be you," she snorted. "There's only one person who would dismember a mannequin like that."

"Hi," said the Doctor, getting up, walking over to River, and pressing a light kiss to her cheek. "Where's Rory at?"

"Don't ask me," River grumbled. "Still looking for a movie to rent, I think. It's not really that big of a deal, is it?"

"It's Christmas!" the Doctor objected indignantly. "What, you've never watched movies on Christmas?" River opened her mouth to retort, uttered a tired sigh when she apparently realized that she had no response, and closed it again. "Oh," said the Doctor quietly. "Oh. River, where are we in our timelines? I didn't really get the opportunity to ask."

"Um, we just did Calderon Beta. I wanted to spend Christmas with my family for once."

"This is your first Christmas, isn't it?" the Doctor asked. "You know, one that you've actually celebrated with your family?" River didn't answer. "Oh," he said again, and then, "I'm really sorry."

River shrugged, in a sort of casual way one shrugs when one is trying a bit too hard to be casual. "It doesn't matter," she said shortly.

"Is that your way of saying that it really _does _matter to you, but you don't want to tell me because you're afraid that I'll feel guilty?" the Doctor asked astutely.

"Quite possibly," said River. "But I never was one for Christmas, anyway." She laughed a bit at the Doctor's horrified expression. "I'm serious!" she continued, and then, "Doctor, is that your gift bag over there? I feel like you shouldn't leave it unattended. My mum'll kill you."

"Did Amy see?" the Doctor asked, hurrying over to the bag and sitting down again. River sat down on his other side. "I hope Amy didn't see."

River laughed. "You're _so _scared of her sometimes. It's really cute."

"I'm scared of _you _most of the time. I've heard that Pond-ness is hereditary." River hit his shoulder lightly. "Ow!"

"Oh—Doctor!" said Rory with surprise, and the Doctor jumped as his friend walked over to them. "I wasn't expecting to see you here. Um, I'm guessing that you and Amy made a Christmas shopping date?"

"It's hardly a _date,_" the Doctor replied. "That would be a bit much for me; I _am _a married man." He was surprised at the effect his words had on River. He supposed that he'd forgotten how young she was; her eyes widened and she smiled with an open happiness.

"So where's Amy?" Rory asked.

"She went to get some eggnog. I think she'll be back in a bit," the Doctor answered. "I'm guarding the presents—Oi! River! No peeking!" He grabbed the bag from River (who had opened it and begun to sort through the gaudily wrapped packages excitedly) and held it protectively to his chest.

"So we're planning on watching a movie tonight," said River conversationally. The Doctor noticed suddenly that she didn't really acknowledge Rory when he walked over; now that he'd realized that something was very wrong, it seemed as if he was noticing everything at once. "I was thinking a really scary horror movie."

Rory rolled his eyes. "I don't think a horror movie is really in the Christmas spirit, River," he said shortly. "I _told _you, I've got a nice one all picked out already."

"Hmm," said River dismissively, standing up abruptly. "I think I'd best be getting home. Amy and I are planning on making Christmas cookies. You said that she was getting eggnog? I'll go meet her—you can meet us both back at home." She leaned down, kissed the Doctor on the cheek, and sauntered off.

The Doctor bit his lip nervously. "Rory," he said apprehensively, "is everything all right between you and River?"

"Quite honestly," said Rory softly, "I know about as much about that as you do. I'm going to go buy my presents." He hurried in the opposite direction, leaving the Doctor sitting with a bag of presents and feeling rather confused.

* * *

><p>When the Doctor finally placed the bag of presents down on the Ponds' kitchen table, it was nearly sunset. River and Amy were making the icing for the Christmas cookies, the latter dabbing icing on the former's nose with a spoon. River was giggling like an idiot and jumping away from Amy's spoon, the front of her frilly <em>Kiss the Cook <em>apron billowing out. She stumbled backward, missing a step. The Doctor neatly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his wife from behind to balance her.

"Careful," he said into her hair.

River laughed delightedly and pulled away. The Doctor wasn't surprised by this. She tended to keep the public displays of affection down to a minimum in front of her parents. It was actually something that he quite admired about her. "I _love _the apron, Mum," she said cheerfully. "Thanks for giving it to me early."

"Ha!" Amy shouted, pointing her icing-covered spoon at the Doctor triumphantly. "_Told _you she'd like it?"

"It's hideous," River informed her mother seriously. "You could give me a fez and I would wear it for you. What sort of person would even _wear _this sort of thing?"

The Doctor smirked. "Told you she wouldn't like it."

"Watch it, or I'll give her a fez," Amy told the Doctor. "And I won't let you shoot it off, either. It'll be her Vengeance Fez, you know, like she gets to wear one but you don't."

"I don't _shoot _things, I _sonic _them," the Doctor grumbled, walking over behind River and snatching her wooden icing spoon to lick off a good deal of the icing.

"Oi!" said River irritably, grabbing the spoon from him and hitting him lightly on the nose. "You have to wait, sweetie."

The Doctor sighed. "Can I help with the icing?"

"Of _course _not!" Amy huffed. "It's a mother-daughter thing, Doctor. We used to do this all the time on the TARDIS, and when she was Mels. Ice cookies together. It's our tradition."

River smiled slightly, not looking up from the cookie she was icing, and the Doctor noticed that there was a soft sort of happiness in her eyes. Like she couldn't believe that she had a mother that wonderful. And Amy _was _wonderful. It had taken her a while to adjust to the fact that Melody was Mels was River, but she didn't let any of that change the relationship she had previously held with River. In fact, Amy's knowledge that River was her mad space daughter seemed to only enhance Amy's and River's friendship.

River jabbed her spoon playfully at Amy, dislodging a bit of icing. The icing flew through the air and landed on her mother's nose. "En garde!" she crowed, doing a dramatic little twirl with her spoon stretched out like a sword.

"Oh, it's _on,_" Amy replied, taking out her own spoon and flinging a spoonful of icing at River. The icing landed on the second _s _in _Kiss _on River's apron, and the Doctor watched his girls start an icing war with a warm feeling of cuddly contentment in his stomach. Watching Amy and River together made him forget all of the bad things, simply because they loved each other. They _did. _And it wasn't the same as if Amy had raised her daughter like she deserved to, but it was the closest that she would get.

Rory opened the door and walked in with his shopping bags. Amy and the Doctor both turned to smile at him. River took Amy's moment of distraction as ample opportunity to catapult a glob of blue icing at Amy's cheek.

"You'll pay for that, Melody Pond!" Amy shouted gleefully, picking up her own spoon and—

"Are you going to actually have enough icing for the cookies?" Rory asked quietly. "Seems an awful waste of icing to me."

"Lighten up, Dad, we're having fun," River said. "We can always make more icing later." The Doctor observed, with a bit of a frown, the way she spoke to Rory. It wasn't aggressive, nor was it unfriendly; it was the sort of way you talked to someone that you didn't really care much about. A distant friend, maybe, or a close acquaintance. He directed a pointed look at Amy. Amy didn't seem to notice.

As Rory walked out of the room, River and Amy made another batch of icing, and the Doctor started working on drawing up a Master Plan To Get River And Rory To Have A Lasting Friendship. He knew that it wasn't any of his business, but he felt like River deserved a father figure in her life, and Rory deserved his daughter's love. And it was _his _fault that neither of them had what they deserved, so he might as well attempt to fix it.

The Master Plan went as follows:

_One: Ice skating. If I remember correctly, River's rubbish at it. Rory can teach her, and I can skate around with Amy._

_Two: Christmas tree decorating. Always a family-friendly activity. I'll put up the tree lights, Amy can put on the star, and River and Rory can put up the ornaments._

_Three: A family-friendly Christmas movie. River loves movies. So does Rory._

_Four: A Christmas gift exchange. Everyone has to buy a gift for everyone else. _

_Five: Christmas dinner as a family. Just me, River, Rory, and Amy. _

Satisfied with the beginnings of a plan, the Doctor capped his pen and walked over to harass Amy and River in an attempt to get some icing. (Needless to say, his attempt failed miserably.)

* * *

><p>"River?" the Doctor asked that night. She was cuddled in his lap on the guest room bed, just as she always was on the nights that they were in a room together, and he was working on getting out the numerous tangles in his wife's hair with a comb and detangler.<p>

"Mmm?" said River contentedly, her hand reaching over her shoulder to catch his free one.

"Are you and your dad on good terms?"

River let out a soft sigh. "I don't want to—just—here, I think you missed a bit," she finally managed.

"River," said the Doctor quietly, but not angrily enough to make it a reprimand. "Are you and your dad—"

"He's always been more focused on Amy," said River, almost involuntarily at first, but then she started to speak very fast. "When I was Mels, I didn't really get much of a chance to get to know him, he was too busy trying to work up the courage to tell Amy how he felt about her. And then when I became me, he—I mean, he cares, but not as much as he really can. He's not as good at connecting me with Mels. Amy—it was different with Amy. She's known me for so long. I was her first best friend. She knows my little tics, how I get when I'm really sad or really happy—" She stopped talking as abruptly as she had started.

"I'm sorry," said the Doctor, pushing River's hair over her shoulder so he could press a light kiss to the nape of her neck.

"I know. That's why I tend not to talk to you about these things."

"Why?"

"You always blame yourself," said River, "and you shouldn't. Not always. Save the blame for when it really _is _your fault, my love. I'll be happy to let you know when that time comes."

The Doctor laughed softly. "I know you will, dear. You always do."

"Have you gotten all of it?"

"Just a bit more," the Doctor replied, letting go of River's hand and working out the last little tangle. "River, would you _want _to be on good terms with your dad?"

"Honestly, I don't think he cares that much."

"Of course he cares. That wasn't the question. Would you want to be on good terms with your dad?"

River was silent for a while, evidently mulling over the question. Then she replied softly, "If it were possible, then yes. I would like to."

They were both quiet, then, until the Doctor finished with River's hair, and then River turned in his lap and fell into his arms with a sleepy sigh. The Doctor seriously doubted whether there was anything more adorable than River Song when she was sleepy, simply because she was hardly ever cuddly under any other circumstances.

"River?" he asked softly.

"No more questions, 'm sleepy," said River into his shoulder. "Is the light off yet?"

The Doctor reached for his sonic and carefully fried the electrical circuits in their bedroom with a loud popping noise. He could fix it in the morning, he was sure, and he was too lazy to get up and turn off the light like a normal person anyway. Then he fell backwards onto the bed, rolled onto his side so that River was lying in his arms, and closed his eyes—

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock! Jingle bell swing and jingle bells ring! Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun, now the jingle—"_

Then there was the sound of someone throwing the Doctor's festive alarm clock against the bedroom wall, and the feeling of River getting back into bed and curling into his side again. He blinked and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep," River protested with a yawn, tugging at his arm. "It's too early, you bloody irritating man. I swear, if you ever set an alarm like that again, I'll—"

"We're all going ice skating today," the Doctor informed her. "We've got to get up early. And I _liked _that alarm."

"I can't think logically when I'm trying to sleep," said River, grabbing the Doctor's pajama sleeve and pulling him down on top of her for a good-morning kiss. The Doctor hummed in appreciation before sitting up again and pulling River with him. "_No,_" she said firmly, pulling away and lying down again. "No. Going back to sleep. Go away—um, come here—"

The Doctor took River's hands and pulled her up again, immensely enjoying the sight that only he ever got to see consistently: River Song's bed head, which was barely ever witnessed outside the confines of their bedroom. River almost always made sure that her hair was somewhat neat when she left any bedroom, and when the Doctor was there, he almost always took care of it for her. River yawned again and finally conceded ungracefully with a, "You're going to owe me quite a lot for this one, sweetie."

"I don't doubt it," said the Doctor, and stepped out of bed, gently tugging River with him. "Come on, let's get ready."

"Cold!" River gasped, and dived back into the bed covers. "I am _done _with cold!" she added into the pillow. "You wouldn't _believe _the heating in Stormcage during the winter, it's like they don't even care! I _hate _the cold!"

"Am I going to have to carry you out of the bed?" asked the Doctor, crossing his arms and frowning at the River-shaped lump under their shared comforter.

"Ooh, I'd like that," River replied with a little laugh.

He did. And he carried her all the way down to breakfast too, comforter and all. River protested and laughed and struggled in a way that told him that she didn't really mind at all. The Doctor couldn't make himself believe that such a cheerful, loving person wouldn't be happy to comply to his Master Plan and make friends with her dad.

* * *

><p><em>One: Ice skating. If I remember correctly, River's rubbish at it. Rory can teach her, and I can skate around with Amy.<em>

They entered the rink in high spirits. River was still a little bit sleepy, but Amy and Rory had woken up early anyway for their morning walk, and the Doctor didn't really sleep that much anyway.

"Oooh, look, hot chocolate!" said the Doctor excitedly, tugging on River's hand. "Can we go and get hot chocolate before we rent some skates?"

"I don't like skating," said River dismally. "I'm rubbish at it."

Amy opened her mouth, presumably to offer her daughter assistance. The Doctor averted the crisis that might throw off his Master Plan by saying loudly, "Amelia, let's go get our skates, shall we? Rory can teach River how to skate a bit better, can't you, Rory?"

"Um—" said Rory awkwardly.

"Doctor—" began River suspiciously.

"Ooh, _yeah! _Father-daughter bonding!" said Amy, who either didn't know about the Doctor's plan and was choosing to comment, or did know about the Doctor's plan and was choosing to not be surreptitious about it.

The Doctor made his escape to the hot chocolate booth.

When he finally arrived on the rink, Amy was skating around in graceful pirouettes, and Rory was holding River's gloved hand in his own. At first glance, the Doctor thought his plan was working, but then he skated closer and actually heard their conversation.

"Okay, now baby steps—"

"I'm not a child, Father."

"I'm _aware _of that," said Rory coolly. "It's an expression."

"Baby steps," River echoed. "One-two-thr—" She then promptly slipped on the ice and fell forward on top of Rory, the latter letting out a loud _oof _as his head hit the ice. "Oh god!" River gasped, hopping up gingerly and trying to pull Rory with her. "Oh god, Rory—um, Dad—are you all right?"

"You can call me Rory," said Rory stiffly, standing up awkwardly and steadying River. "It seems to be more convenient for you."

"It's _habit, _that's all," River snapped. "I've spent a good portion of my life attempting not to call you Dad because you didn't _know _you were my father, so give me a bit of a break, won't you?"

"Well, I can't really call you Melody, so we'll just be River and Rory to each—"

"Mum calls me Melody! You could at _least _call me Mels!"

"Okay!" said the Doctor loudly, deciding that he didn't really want to see the unresolved tension boil over in the middle of an ice rink. River had tears in her eyes, almost imperceptible, but he knew the difference between angry-River and hiding-the-damage River. He took River's hand. "I'll teach you how to skate," he said softly. "Come on, dear."

He dared half a glance at Rory, expecting the full wrath of the Roman Centurion in return, but his father-in-law only had a sad tiredness in his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Two: Christmas tree decorating. Always a family-friendly activity. I'll put up the tree lights, Amy can put on the star, and River and Rory can put up the ornaments.<em>

This probably would have gone to plan if not for the fact that the Doctor had absolutely _no _idea how to unpack tree lights, and somehow he managed to tangle himself in them so efficiently that he had to shout for River's help.

"It looks like someone tied you up," River observed. "That's actually very impressive, considering you managed that all on your own, although I've no idea how we're going to get them off of you. I think we might do better to decorate you instead of the tree."

"Not funny," said the Doctor, wriggling a bit in his self-constructed bonds.

"Yeah, just plug him in," Amy joked as she walked in. "He'd make a great tree." She frowned. "Where's the plug at? I can't see a plug. Is it tangled under your arm or something?"

The Doctor attempted to shrug, realized that he couldn't due to the fact that the tree lights were restraining him, and said instead, "No idea. Where's Rory?"

"I'll get him," said Amy with a smirk. "He'll want a picture of this. Ooh! This can be one of the photos of you for the mantelpiece, Mels!"

"Photos for the mantelpiece?" River echoed shyly. "Of me?"

"Can't have a house without a few pictures of my daughter, can I?" Amy asked with a quiet sort of smile. River smiled back, warmly—

"Doctor?" said Rory in bemusement. "What happened to you?"

"I'd figure that it would be fairly obvious," River muttered, rolling her eyes. The argument at the ice rink was still a point of contention between River and Rory, and the two were barely on speaking terms. "He's tangled up in the tree lights, the idiot."

"So should we try and get him out, or should we just cut them off and go without the lights this year?" Rory asked.

"I say cut them off," said River enthusiastically. "I'll get the scissors."

"Hang on, _no! _You could _hurt _someone with the scissors that I know you're thinking of, River!" said Rory sharply.

"I'm not talking about _those _scissors, I'm talking about the _other _scissors! Why must you always think the worst of me?" River demanded petulantly.

"Maybe because _you _seem to always think the worst of _me!_" Rory snapped.

"Stop arguing!" shouted the Doctor, and if his hands had been free he would have thrown them up in exasperation. "Why are you suddenly arguing all of the time? It's not _like _either of you!"

"I don't know," said River quietly. "Maybe because we haven't spent that much time together."

"That is complete—" Rory began, but Amy cut him off by pulling him into the other room. The Doctor heard a sharp whisper of "And _what _d'you think you are playing at?" from Amy before the door slammed behind them.

He turned to River. "You two don't generally argue," he said quietly. "Actually, now that I think about it, you two don't generally _talk_."

River sighed and turned to him, beginning to clumsily untangle him from the string of tree lights. The Doctor suddenly had a vague memory of an older her untangling him from something or other expertly, and he strongly suspected that her future skills at untangling things came from situations like this. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I don't think he likes me like Mum does. I _want _him to," she added, "but he doesn't really see Melody in me. It's different with Mum. Mum knows me. Mum's always known me. She says that even before she knew I was Melody, she liked me. Says that in my future, her past, we became best girlfriends and we used to have sleepovers on the TARDIS and annoy you with our laughing."

"Ha, yeah," said the Doctor softly. "Now you're my wife and _we _have sleepovers and annoy Amy and Rory with—"

"Parents in the other room," said River with a little smile, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot of lights. "It's lovely of you for trying to fix Rory and me, but there's not much that you can do." The Doctor sighed, and then he leaned forward as much as the tree lights would allow and kissed the corner of her mouth—or tried to. River stepped neatly backwards as she continued to unravel a longer strand of tree lights. "I don't want to," she said. "Not now. I need to think things over, and kissing just clouds my head. I'd really, really like to have a nice little family Christmas, but I don't know how to go about apologizing to Rory."

"Can't you just say that you're sorry?"

"Sweetie, it isn't always that easy."

"I think it is. I always say I'm sorry, and eventually I get forgiven."

"But do you forgive yourself?" River asked quietly. "I don't know if I'm good at that bit. I should be a better daughter. I should be making my parents proud. I should be, what, three or four years old right now? I should be in photo albums and making them laugh with silly little crayon-scribble drawings. I should be—"

"A bit _calmer, _dear, that might help," said the Doctor gently. "I can't exactly give you a reassuring hug with all of these silly _lights, _so would you mind hurrying up a bit?"

"I don't do hugs."

"Just like you don't do weddings," the Doctor teased, eliciting a reluctant smile from River.

* * *

><p><em>Three: A family-friendly Christmas movie. River loves movies. So does Rory.<em>

"So what did you pick?" River asked, sitting down between the Doctor and Amy and lightly entwining her hand with her husband's. The Doctor, who had watched multiple late-night movies with River, knew that she would soon get tired and cuddle into his side. Amy, who had watched said movies with them, wisely decided to go sit on Rory's lap in the armchair to make room for River's constant shifting in position.

"Oh, I picked _Meet Me in Saint Louis,_" Rory replied.

River groaned quite audibly. "Can't we watch something nice and horrifying?"

"Didn't we already _have _this discussion?" Rory said irritably.

"Turning on the movie!" said the Doctor loudly, grabbing the remote, pressing Play, and taking an enormous handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table.

The movie began.

"That is such a ridiculous song," River muttered.

"I _love _this song," said Rory, sounding a bit injured.

"Sorry," River said shortly. "I can't take musicals."

"You were fine with _Chicago!" _the Doctor objected.

River smirked slightly. "That's only because you were tinkering with the TARDIS for two days straight. Did you know that it's _so _adorable to watch you sleep? Your head was on my lap for the entire musical."

"Um, were we watching the movie?" Rory asked pointedly. "I like this bit." There was silence then, until Esther began to sing "The Boy Next Door" and Amy lost patience.

"_Do _something about your crush on him then, damn it!" she snapped at the television. "Don't just moon over him from the fence like a stalker!"

"Says the woman whose husband did that for at least twelve to fifteen years," the Doctor commented idly. Rory gave him an annoyed look before turning back to the television.

There continued to be silence for the rest of the movie. As ideas went, the Doctor thought that it was probably one of his more useless ones, especially considering that River fell asleep halfway through. _This, _however, he didn't mind, because River's head was resting on his knee and she was cuddled under the blankets and was there such a thing as 'newlywed bliss' even if both participants were much older than they looked and—

River's soft snore cut off the Doctor's train of thought, as well as Esther's line.

* * *

><p><em>Four: A Christmas gift exchange. Everyone has to buy a gift for everyone else. <em>

The Doctor placed his clumsily wrapped presents on the table next to Amy's neatly wrapped ones, Rory's nicely wrapped ones, and River's impeccably wrapped ones. Apparently Kovarian had taught her how to wrap packages in a way that would disguise letter bombs, and she'd translated the skill into wrapping Christmas presents.

"This one's for you," he said as soon as Amy came in, pointing to the largest of his three. "I got it especially for you. It's from a department store on—"

"Just let me _see _it, Raggedy Man," said Amy with amusement, sitting down at the kitchen table next to the Doctor. "Wait a bit, though—River and Rory are coming down." There was then the sound of footsteps, and the Doctor and Amy both hopped up in excitement. River walked into the kitchen, and it was clear that something was wrong. A single tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it off furiously.

"Okay," said the Doctor in a low and tentative voice. "Okay, what is it? I will _kill _it, dear, I will _annihilate _it, because _nothing _gets to make you cry, hmm?" He hurried forward and attempted to pull River into his arms, but she pulled away.

"I'm _fine!_" River shouted, glaring up at him angrily. "I am _bloody fine! _I don't cry, this isn't rational, this isn't _reasonable!_ I don't _like _this!" She kicked a table leg.

Rory followed, looking a bit guilty, and the Doctor suddenly had a suspicion of what might have happened. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I didn't do anything," said Rory softly. "That's sort of the problem."

"_No pictures!_" River said in a way that was quite unlike her. She was showing the damage as she turned on Rory, another tear escaping and a long-buried hurt in her eyes surfacing. "You've got a _thousand _of Amy in your office, and—and Jeff, and your dad, and every other person on the damn _planet, _but none of me! None! Not even of Mels! And don't tell me that you never had any, because I _saw _the ones Amy framed!" A sick feeling filled the Doctor's stomach. He had never, ever seen River so upset by anything.

Rory looked down at his feet.

"No pictures," said River again, ever so softly. "I give up. I…I give up. You don't care. You're evidently still missing Melody, aren't you?" She sniffled. "I'm still here," she said, and the Doctor had never heard her sound more scared. "I'm still here. Can't you see? Don't you see me? I'm _still here. _I'm Mels and Melody and me. All in one. Package deal."

"I didn't think you wanted a dad," Rory said, looking up at her. "I didn't think you needed one. You're River Song, you know, unstoppable and…shooting things. A lot. I thought you were fine without me."

"I'm _not. _Evidently." There was a long silence that seemed to drag. Were this the sort of Christmas miracle the Doctor had hoped for, there probably would have been some sort of group hug, but there wasn't. Then River walked tentatively over to the pile of presents and picked out a nicely wrapped one, one that the Doctor recognized as Rory's handiwork. The tag said _River _on it.

River carefully unwrapped the small, thin present, and then she let out something between a sob and a sigh.

"What is it?" the Doctor asked worriedly. "River? Is everything all—"

River clutched the present to her chest for a moment before placing it down on the table so that the Doctor and Amy could see.

It was a picture, an old one, of Rory when he was maybe fourteen, with a girl who was unmistakably River. Oh, she had a different face, but the Doctor could see the sparkle of mischief in her eyes and the way her nose crinkled when she smiled wickedly. Rory's arm was around the girl, and he looked a little bit nervous, but River—that is, Mels—was smiling widely and clutching Rory's hand on her shoulder.

"I used to think that you fancied me," said Rory softly. "That was why I didn't spend much time with you. Didn't want to lead you on."

River nodded stiffly. "This probably won't fix things much," she said quietly. "But it helps. A bit."

"A bit," Rory echoed.

River moved away from the table and stuck out her hand. "Hi," she said to Rory, her eyes fixed on his. "I'm Melody Pond, aka Mels Zucker, aka River Song. I don't yet love you like a daughter should, but I'd like to try and learn." Rory gave her a funny little half-smile and shook his daughter's hand.

"I need a camera," the Doctor whispered to Amy. "I want to capture the moment." Amy hit him in the shoulder. "Ow! What is it with Ponds and hitting people?"

"You've still got a tear," Rory said with gentle amusement. He gently raised his finger to River's cheek and wiped the tear away.

"I feel like an idiot for crying," said River with a wry smile.

"It's not healthy to keep things bottled up," the Doctor told her. "You need to let someone know _all _of it, so they can try and fix it for you."

"That," said River, "is a hopelessly un-subtle hint that you want me to tell you things more." She sniffled one last time, and then she surprised everyone by pressing a shy kiss to Rory's cheek. Rory smiled all through the gift exchange, and River blushed, but she looked more pleased than she'd been in a long time.

* * *

><p><em>Five: Christmas dinner as a family. Just me, River, Rory, and Amy.<em>

"Ready?" the Doctor asked River, and in return she kissed him. Not the sort of chaste kiss that she'd been limiting herself to in the hallways of her parents' home; _this _one was so passionate that it sent a tingle all the way to his toes. It lasted for precisely thirteen seconds (not that he was counting) before he pulled away and asked with delight, "What did I do to deserve _that?_"

"I love you," said River, straight to the point, and kissed him again.

"No, seriously," said the Doctor, pulling away so that he could think coherently. "What did I do? I want to see if I can do it more often, especially if it means declarations of love."

River laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I really, really love you," she said breathlessly.

The Doctor smiled slightly. "I really, really love you too," he whispered, pulling her into a hug.

"Right, are you two coming to dinner, or are you going to have declarations of love in the hallway?" Amy asked, but she didn't sound as amused and straightforward as usual. Instead, she was smiling softly, looking sort of proud and pleased at the same time. "Rory's waiting."

"Rory's waiting for _me _too now," said River, and then to the Doctor, "That's thanks to you, if a bit indirectly. You made me actually think about it. I love you, sweetie."

"Um, Pond, I don't think I intend on going anywhere anytime soon," said the Doctor softly, closing his eyes and holding River closer.

"Do I have to pry you apart with a crowbar?" said Amy in a bit of irritation. "The turkey's going to get cold!"

River let go of the Doctor (standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek before she left) and hurried into the dining room, taking the seat next to Rory and starting up a much less awkward conversation.

"It's not quite a Christmas miracle," said the Doctor, peering through the doorway with Amy, "but it's definitely a Christmas beginning."

"Yeah, you wanted a Christmas special like on telly," Amy snorted.

"Are you going to stand there like creepy girls next door or are you going to sit down with me and Melody?" Rory called, making River's eyes widen and her smile become brighter than the Doctor had ever seen it.

"You just called me Melody," she said in awe, her smile not bothering to fade.

"It's your name, isn't it?" said Rory, his smile becoming less hesitant. River leaned over and hugged him fiercely.

"_There's _the Christmas hug, Pond!" shouted the Doctor in victory, punching the air. "_Yes!_ Don't you ever tell me that I don't need a plan like this again!"

"Well, you won't," said Amy, "because it looks like they won't be arguing any time soon."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, laughed, and sat down with his family. Rory gently pulled away from River and began to cut up the potatoes, Amy sat down and served herself some turkey, and River smiled and took his hand over the table in gratitude.

* * *

><p><strong>Merry Christmas, everyone! Hope you're having a good one.<strong>

**-The Eclectic Bookworm**


End file.
